


You and Me and Science Makes Three

by vienn_peridot



Series: Citrus Basket [11]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: (technically) - Freeform, Double Penetration, For Science!, I am going to hell, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Stuffing, Tentacles, Voyeurism, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor needs help testing a new invention.<br/>Drift and Ratchet agree to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me and Science Makes Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coralus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coralus/gifts).



"Before we begin I would like to thank you both for agreeing to help me." Perceptor said, not looking up from his final preparations on the portable control unit he was using for his experiment.

Ratchet grumbled something, poking at the diagnostic cables extending from his forearm ports but Drift smiled broadly, wriggling around so he was sprawled more comfortably on ‘his’ medberth.

"Always happy to help you, Percy." The Speedster said cheerfully.

They had commandeered the largest private room attached to the Medbay for this experiment, the one that was soundproofed. Ratchet had given Perceptor permission to borrow the room _and_ cleared everything with Ultra Magnus on the condition that Perceptor had a medic supervising this test. Somehow Drift had talked Ratchet into participating. Perceptor hadn’t been there for that conversation and he didn’t want to know how Drift had convinced the CMO.

Some things you were just better off not knowing.

So instead of answering Perceptor ran one last check over the diagnostic equipment and sensors he had attached to Drift and Ratchet, making sure the medical cables in their diagnostic ports weren’t going to come loose. (He had taped them down at Ratchet’s suggestion) Everything was ready, charge levels and neural feedback were at standard levels, except for Drift who was already somewhat… excited by everything.

He knew about the speedster’s medical kink. It was part of why he’d asked Drift in the first place.

“Make yourselves comfortable, please.” Perceptor picked up the cables that would connect to his own medical ports and hardline interface array, booting up the control and buffer programs for the particular invention he was testing. “We shall begin when you are ready.”

A notice popped up on Perceptor’s HUD; it was the control program saying everything was ready for him to connect to the device. Cycling his vents, the scientist plugged himself into his latest invention.

Instead of making themselves comfortable, Drift and Ratchet were leaning forwards. The speedster was smiling and licking his lips, watching with interest and excitement while Ratchet pretended to be only interested in Perceptor’s wellbeing. The sound of his engine rumbling away made it obvious that he was just as interested as Drift.

“Connection initialising.” Perceptor murmured, optics dimming as he focused on the increase in sensory data. “It is online.”

Perceptor was now plugged into an experimental mod that gave him four extra limbs; long, prehensile tube-like structures he was referring to as ‘tentacles’ for lack of a better word. Everything else he’d come up with had been accurate but too long, too simple or just inaccurate. He was borrowing from several Earth creatures for the design, so it seemed fitting to use a word from the same planet to name them.

“How do they feel?” Drift asked curiously, leaning forwards to watch Perceptor test his four temporary limbs.

“It feels odd, but the program is converting the proprioception and sensory data with no major errors so far.” Perceptor flexed the tentacles, curling and uncurling them together and then one at a time.

Carefully Perceptor took the tentacles through some basic range-of-motion tests, then moved on to the intermediate ones. When the diagnostics showed no problems he finished the advanced ones, picking things up and manipulating them to make sure the tactile feedback and fine motor control programs were all functioning properly.

They were.

He could see Drift’s optics light up with unconcealed glee when the final checks showed none of the red flags that would mean they had to stop the experiment.

“The upgraded sensory protocols seem to be working. I think we are ready for the next phase of testing.” Perceptor said unnecessarily.

A little shiver ran over Drift’s plating and Ratchet nodded to himself, leaning back on his medberth.

“Start with the impatient one over there,” Ratchet said, waving a hand at Drift. “We don’t want him getting into mischief.”

Knowing the speedster as well as he did Perceptor could only agree with Ratchet’s suggestion. Drift was already wriggling back on the berth, beautifully curved red-and-white thighs spread invitingly wide. His pelvic armour was open, secondary covers sliding aside to reveal a leaking valve and half-pressurised spike.

“Yes, that would be wise.” Perceptor observed in the clinically detached tone he knew would drive Drift crazy. “We can’t have him skewing the results.”

Ratchet grinned at the way Drift moaned, his spike shooting to full pressurisation with a loud _hiss-pop_. Perceptor smirked, sending two of the tentacle arms to skim up the inside of Drift’s thighs towards the trail of lubricant oozing from his open valve.

“No, you wouldn’t want that.” Ratchet used the cool, professional voice of the CMO. “We’d have to run the tests all over again.”

Drift twitched when the tip of one tentacle dragged slowly over the slick folds of his valve, gasping when it prodded a place Perceptor knew was sensitive. The other active tentacle found Drift’s swollen sensory nub, massaging it gently.

“We would.” Perceptor had to raise his voice to be heard of the broken gasps and high-pitched whines pouring from Drift. “It _would_ be a nuisance to have to re-book this room and set up the equipment all over again.”

It was obvious that Drift was close to overload just from these gentle touches and the other two mechs deliberately playing on his kinks. His back arched as one of Perceptor’s tentacles slowly entered his valve. The tentacle was about as wide as an average spike with a blunt, rounded tip but it was much firmer than a spike and had none of the texture a spike would have. He had to take his time, wriggling the tip to make sure he wasn't catching any of the intricate folds and accidentally hurting Drift. It didn’t seem to matter to Drift and the programs Perceptor was running translated to sensory data perfectly. He could feel the hot, wet clench of Drift’s valve around the tentacle as if it was a part of his frame. Ratchet seemed to be enjoying the view, the medic's array was open and he was stroking his spike slowly.

“We may need to have several rounds of testing anyway.” Ratchet was used to shouting orders over busy wartime medbays, his voice cut easily through Drift’s cries of pleasure and the rumble of their engines. “You won’t catch all the bugs in the code this time around. Knowing you there will be things you want to refine as well, and refinements mean more testing.”

The idea of more testing did it for Drift. He screamed in overload, valve squeezing the tentacle in his valve and his spike shooting a glittering arc of silver fluid over his belly. Perceptor stilled the tentacles the instant Drift’s overload peaked, analysing the incoming sensations and letting Drift ride out his overload however he wanted to. When Drift was finished he lay there for a few minutes, dragging gulps of air through his vents. Eventually he turned a dopey grin to the watching mechs.

“Seven out of ten, Percy.” Drift rasped. “Could use more texture but they conduct charge _very_ nicely.”

“That’s high praise from him.” Ratchet said, taking his hand off his spike and copying Drift’s spread-legged pose. “You’d better get a second opinion _and_ a larger sample size, Perceptor.”

“Oooooh you know I love it when you guys speak nerdy.” Drift moaned happily. He made a face when Perceptor tried to slide the tentacle from Drift’s valve. “Leave it in me, please Percy?”

Perceptor had no defences against Drift’s turbopup optics, so he did as he was asked. The speedster reached down to grab the tentacle that had been playing with his node, hauling it up to lie on his chesplates so he could pet it gently, ignoring the sticky mess of his own lubricants covering it. He turned his helm to watch the previously unused tentacles twitch to life and move towards Ratchet’s frame.

Ratchet’s valve design was slightly different to Drift’s, letting Perceptor slide one tentacle inside almost straight away. The medic sighed through his vents, humming low in his vocaliser as the other tentacle took over stroking his spike. After some fumbling Perceptor figured out how to coil the tentacle around Ratchet’s spike and began to pump it slowly, copying the actions of the tentacle in Ratchet’s valve.

“Mmm, Drift is right. That could use a bit more texture.” Ratchet said, sounding like he was giving a lecture instead of being fragged. “Forget about my spike for a minute, Perceptor. Can you stick both of those in my valve?”

That request had Drift shooting upright, forcing Perceptor to remove the tentacle from Drift’s valve before it or Drift got damages. The speedster’s spike started to pressurise again and Perceptor looped the still-slippery tentacle loosely around it. Drift shivered and reached down to start playing with his spike and the tentacle wrapped around it. Perceptor turned his attention back to Ratchet, trying to ignore the delicious ways the feedback from the tentacle on Drift’s spike combined with the one currently buried in Ratchet’s valve.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Ratchet.” Perceptor released the medic’s spike and took a deep invent, positioning the tentacle at the entrance of Ratchet’s valve, next to the one still slowly fragging the CMO. “Please let me know if you feel any pain.”

“You know I will, Perceptor.” Ratchet growled. “Now hurry up and frag me.”

“Better do as the doctor says.” Drift was laughing quietly at the sight of Ratchet’s cool mask vanishing to be replaced by an incredibly frustrated mech desperate for a spike.  “I think he might strangle you with this lovely new toy of yours if you don’t.”

From the look on Ratchet’s face Drift probably wasn’t wrong about that.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Ratchet grumped and reached down, using one hand to spread the folds of his valve apart and sliding two fingers of the other one effortlessly into his valve beside the tentacle still buried inside him.

Two engines revved in harmony as Ratchet slowly parted his fingers, spreading his valve more than wide enough for the second tentacle to enter beside the first. Perceptor’s mouth went dry at the sight of bright red biologhts pulsing and reflecting off the lubricant-coated tentacle inside the CMO’s valve. Drift groaned something, starting to work his spike in earnest.

“What’s taking you so fragging long?” Ratchet demanded.

Snapping out of his daze, Perceptor slid the second tentacle into Ratchet’s valve. Whatever Ratchet had been about to say was cut off by a crackle of static at the sudden pressure and fullness. The sensory data from the tentacles was amazing. Perceptor had to offline his optics in order to concentrate on slowly moving the tentacles in and out of Ratchet in a smooth and controlled manner. The visual input of seeing the medic grabbing the sides of the medberth to anchor himself and arching into the steady thrusting with a completely blissed-out expression was too much, even for a seasoned voyeur like Perceptor.

He couldn’t block out the sounds though, not when he needed to listen for Ratchet warning him of pain.

There was creaking and heavy venting from Drift as he self-serviced, dragging the tentacle and his fist over his spike while he watched the show. Ratchet was moaning hoarsely, barely audible over the slick sucking sounds coming from the pair of tentacles fragging his valve. Perceptor was surprised to hear himself panting raggedly in reaction to the charge building within his frame. This didn’t happen very often. Ratchet said something he couldn’t understand but Drift obviously could. The speedster removed the tentacle from his spike and brought it to his mouth, licking over the rounded end and slowly sucking it into his mouth exactly as if it were a spike.

Combined with the hot grip of Ratchet’s valve around the other two tentacles, the feeling of Drift’s mouth on the third one was enough to send overload skittering through Perceptor’s systems. Failsafes tripped on, stilling the tentacles until the wave of charge cleared his systems.

“Well, that worked perfectly.” Ratchet said calmly. “Going to finish me off now?”

“In my own time, thank you doctor.” Perceptor didn’t need to look to know that Ratchet was scowling at him.

When the control program allowed Perceptor access to the tentacles again he began the slowest thrusts he possibly could. He felt Drift laugh around the tentacle still in his mouth as the speedster tried to use his mouth to copy what Perceptor was doing to Ratchet. When Perceptor felt confident enough to begin alternating thrusts and sliding the tentacles over and around each other within Ratchet he brought his optics back online. By now Drift was completely absorbed in the sight of the moaning medic, mouth still sealed around the tentacle and sucking occasionally. Ratchet arched on the medberth and pumped his hips desperately, trying to get Perceptor to speed up.

“Ratchet, these are not as soft as a spike, I will _not_ allow you to damage yourself.” Perceptor scolded, moving with Ratchet so the medic couldn’t force the tentacles any further in.

“My valve is more flexible than it looks, dammit.” Ratchet growled, letting go of the medberth to and shoving his fingers into his valve again, spreading even wider than before to demonstrate. “See? So _just frag me already_.”

Drift pulled his tentacle from his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and eyed the gaping valve.

“You know what,” He said casually, licking the tentacle suggestively. “I think he _could_ just about fit another one in there. What do you say, Percy?”

Ratchet seemed to really like the idea of three tentacles stretching his valve. His helm fell back against the berth with a thump and his valve spasmed around the fingers and tentacles stretching it. A glance at the medical readouts showed no undue physical stress on Ratchet’s systems as the CMO overloaded messily, lubricants spilling out of his valve to stain his armour and the medberth below him.

“I certainly seem to recall Ratchet taking objects of significant girth with little problem in the past.” Perceptor pretended to think Drift’s idea over for longer than he needed to, just to watch the legendary CMO Ratchet squirm. “Please remove your fingers so I may test Drift’s hypothesis.”

Red hands vanished from Ratchet’s valve to grab the edges of the medberth again and Perceptor activated the fourth tentacle he’d almost forgotten about in the face of the sensory data coming in from the other three. He nudged it slowly up between the first two, using the tentacles buried deep within Ratchet’s valve to hold the medic wide enough for the third one to enter. It was very slow going. Perceptor was trying his hardest not to accidentally damage Ratchet with the unyielding construction of the tentacles.

Engines roared and Ratchet’s entire frame shook as the third tentacle finally joined its partners inside his valve. Drift’s hand was a blur over his spike and he slurped noisily on the tentacle he'd put back in his mouth. Between Ratchet’s valve massaging the three tentacles inside his it and the action of Drift’s glossa on the one in the speedster’s mouth Perceptor overloaded again.

“This is unbelievable.”  Perceptor huffed when the overload passed, not sure if he was referring to his overloads or the sensations coming from the tentacles.

“I know, he’s so fragging hot like this.” Drift mumbled around the tentacle in his mouth. His optics were glued to the moaning medic on the other medberth. “Look at him, spread around three of these things. I bet he’s so full he can barely think and loving every second of it.”

Ratchet tried to say something but his voice was almost completely static.

“Would you like them to move?” Perceptor had a good idea of what Ratchet was trying to ask.

The answer he got was lots of nodding and Ratchet’s hips jerking weakly as the medic tried to push himself down on the tentacles. Perceptor eased them out slowly until only the tips remained within Ratchet’s valve; lubricant ran down the medic’s plating in a steady stream and made obscene squishing noises when Perceptor slowly pressed back in. Ratchet’s moans rose in pitch as Perceptor continued the agonisingly slow thrusts, pausing to fight off a third overload as Drift screamed his own overload around the tentacle filling his mouth.

Ratchet joined Drift two thrusts later, plating rattling loudly. Lubricant under pressure shot out around the tentacles stuffing his valve and his spike somehow overloaded with enough force to splatter silvery liquid all over his glass chestplate. When Perceptor tried to pull the tentacles from Ratchet’s valve the medic shook his helm.

“Wait, Percy. Leave them there.” Ratchet’s voice was half growl and half static. “Feels good. They kinda tingle for a bit after you overload. It‘s good.”

“So who’s cleaning this up?” Drift asked, waving a hand at the mess they’d made.

Ratchet raised his helm to glare tiredly at Perceptor.

“Experimenter takes care of the mess.” Ratchet stated, letting his helm fall back to the berth with a thump.

Perceptor sighed and started disconnecting himself from the control box.

This was going to take a while.


End file.
